#it’s like they lost all of their brain cells

[ninikrumbs]

all mine

megumi fushiguro x femreader. pure fluff. aged up. jealous megumi

Megumi rarely shows his possessive side. He prided himself to be a calm and rational man. He knows what's his will always be his. That includes you, and no amount of pathetic boys ogling at you and trying to get your attention will change that.

So imagine his surprise as irritation and irrational anger simmers in his chest when he catches your ex staring at you from across the restaurant. The both of you were having dinner with your tightly knit group of friends in a modern and chic restaurant. You were having such a good time catching up with you friends that you failed to notice his souring mood.

To his dismay, your ex had a full view of your gorgeous face from where you were sitting. The asshole has the nerve to gape and grope at you like a fish with his eyes as if he wasn't sitting right next to you. His fist was just itching to meet his stupid face, maybe make him lose a teeth or two.

Huh, his violent thoughts startles him, huffing lightly at himself, amused that he loses all reason when he it comes to you. To the point that he considers standing and having a go at your ex unprovoked. Maybe, he'd get kicked out if the restaurant but it would be worth it if it meant he got to kick him.

But no.

no.

This wasn't like him and more importantly that would upset you, and the last thing he wants is to see you in distress because of him. Especially now when your smile practically brightens the room, eyes sparkling under the golden light. To him you look like you had little flecks of light around you, an angel in a sea of humans. And he never wants that light to dim.

Smiling softly, his puts an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest before planting a kiss on you hairline.

His sudden display of affection captures you attention, you peer up at him,"Gumi? something wrong?"

Your voice light and laced with affection. Your hand reaches to cup his cheek, tracing his strong jaw with you fingers. He rests his hand over yours, thumbing your pulse, lifting them a fraction before pressing small kisses on your fingertips. Its like you were in your own little bubble. Ignoring your friends teasing looks.

Even small ministrations like these made your heart race, and the tender look gracing his face as he answers didn't help either. "Nothings wrong, pretty girl. Just keep talking."

"Okay.." You open your mouth to question him some more but was cut off by your friend asking you something, immediately distracting you, dropping your clasped hands to his lap. You were talking animatedly, your mood sparking up again as you get lost in the conversation once more.

He breaths you in, your sweet scent enveloping his senses. the arm around your shoulders absentmindedly reaches out to twirl a lock of your soft hair with his fingers.

Despite calming down, Megumi couldn't stop himself from checking if the bastard was still looking at you.

And your ex apparently had a death wish. Unadulterated anger simmered in his veins, as your ex was walking towards your table right now. Megumi's hold on you tightened but not enough for you to notice, including the temperature in the room practically dropping to icy hell.

As if noticing him for the first time, your ex stops in his tracks under Megumi's death glare. A chill runs up his spine, every cell in his brain telling him to run. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under. Still twirling you hair between his fingers, he looked like a demon protecting his oblivious little angel.

The possesive edge underneath Megumi's seemingly calm exterior would ring alarm bells in anyone with a working brain. To your ex's luck, he thankfully had half a brain to walk away.

"Gumi..?"

"Megumi.."

The concern voice makes him snap back from his rage filled vision. Expression immediately softening at the sight of you. "Yeah?"

"Is there something wrong? You look tense."

He shakes his head, a small frown on his face, "Its nothing, just tired of people staring at whats mine."

Your eyebrows raise, surprise at his rare sign of possessiveness, before you break out into a huge grin. "Oh, gumi. you're so cute."

"I'm not cute." But the light blush dusting his cheeks make you think otherwise.

Leaning up, you kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear, "Im all yours, so they can stare all they want."

Huffing at your pleased expression, he pulls you closer by the waist, his head falling on your shoulder to hide his face from your teasing gaze as he mumbles beneath his breath, "All mine."

[honey-bird10]

[kiame-sama]

Babies. Tiny round baby Dragons. The Crown Jewels of Briar Valley. Only one brain cell, and they lost it. They are all about the size of medium sized pumpkins at this point and they like to lay in a pile on top of their Human parent and LOVE when Malleus is in his full Draconic form to hold them. They especially like sitting atop his head and looking around. Tiny hatchlings know nothing other than be small and love their parents and siblings (+Lilia).

[malusokay]

Our Brains Are Rotting and Cicero Knew

On distraction, decline, and the intellectual rot Cicero saw coming. (from my substack)

O tempora, o mores—Cicero’s lament still echoes, like a parent sighing at their kid for putting the milk back in the fridge empty. He hurled those words into a world that thought it was collapsing, but honestly, Rome didn’t even know what real rot was yet. Cicero stood in the Senate, cloaked in self-righteous fury (as only Cicero could), accusing the guilty and clutching at virtues that were slipping through his fingers. “Iniquissima haec bellorum condicio est: prospera omnes sibi vindicant, adversa uni imputantur,” he said—history is cruel, always ready to share the credit for triumphs but quick to pin failure on a scapegoat. And oh, how disappointed he’d be to know his words, once etched in fire, are now buried in scrollable trivia, nestled between TikTok trends and threads about the dying sourdough starters.

Our rot is quieter and more subtle, almost polite, like water slowly ruining the foundation of a house no one even lives in anymore. It doesn’t come with swords or collapsing senates, but with screens. Flickering, endless screens. A thousand voices all talking at once until it’s just static, white noise buzzing in your brain. The kicker? We hold the wisdom of entire empires in our sweaty little hands, every speech, every scroll, every fragment of brilliance painstakingly saved by people who didn’t even have plumbing—and we just let it rot beneath algorithmic garbage. We traded Lucretius for lip-syncs, ars est celare artem for captions written by bots.

And Cicero? Poor Cicero, who believed so fiercely in the res publica, in the duty to preserve both morality and intellect—he’d probably choke on his wine to see us not just distracted but actively sabotaging ourselves. “Nescire autem quid ante quam natus sis acciderit, id est semper esse puerum,” he warned, because ignorance of history is the fastest way to stay a child forever. And, well, here we are: eternal toddlers in the nursery of civilization, sucking on the pacifier of whatever mindless content the algorithm spits out next. We’re not just lost; we’re willingly staying lost. It’s almost impressive.

Yet we think we’re clever. That’s the worst part. We think we’ve outsmarted the ancients, with our steady diet of soundbites and videos, each one shorter and dumber than the last. Meanwhile, Cicero would be rolling his eyes so hard they’d get stuck. “Legum servi sumus, ut liberi esse possimus,” he’d remind us—slaves to the rules we create, but these aren’t the rules of a republic. They’re the rules of a distraction economy. We call it freedom, but it’s more like gilded captivity. Every thought reduced to a trend, every story a fifteen-second flicker. What freedom is that? It’s like decorating your prison cell with fairy lights and pretending it’s cosy.

The rot isn’t just in the content. It’s in the way we approach it, like tourists in a museum, glancing at the masterpieces but never stopping long enough to feel their weight. We skim the Iliad, marvelling at its age but missing its fire, its warnings, its unbearable humanity. We quote the poets but only because it sounds sharp on a tote bag, not because we understand the exhaustion behind it. The ancients fought for words like these, polished them with the desperation of people who knew empires could crumble at any moment. And what do we do? We scroll right past, looking for something quicker, easier, something that sparkles.

We are exactly the people Cicero feared: writing tweets no one will read, building monuments to vanity instead of virtue, shrugging off the weight of history for the cheap thrill of now. The ancients taught us better. They polished their words like marble, made them heavy and sharp, meant to outlast empires. But we’re just tossing them aside to chase the next shiny thing. It’s not that we don’t know better—it’s that we don’t care.

And so, our brains rot. Not from hunger, but from excess. From too much noise, too much fluff, too much everything. The cry of O tempora, o mores isn’t dead, but it’s definitely hoarse. And the worst part? We’ve stopped listening. We don’t even notice the silence.

thank you for joining me on my little 4 AM Cicero brain-rot spiral. Usually, things like this stay buried in my notes, but where’s the fun in that, right? Lots of love, Malu <3

[xxnashiraxx]

Snippet Sunday 🩸

I have been so busy these past couple of weeks and have not had a chance to post on a Wednesday, but making up for that today!

Thank you for all the tags over this past week, guys! Especially to @obsessedwhyyes @vividiana (I SAW YOU POST YOUR FIC, I'M ON THAT) @deadly-diminuendo @heylittleriotact @andromedaancunin @emmg -I hope I got everyone! 🖤

Here is a little snippet from Chapter 18 of With Stars to Fill My Dream! I'm a few words shy of 10k and I'm still not done 😬 Very close though! I still intend to post the chapter this coming Saturday, so I'm just juggling the ending since it was supposed to cut off at a certain event, but if I add that this chapter may turn into 15k and I don't think anyone needs a 15k chapter lol, so 19 will have my big cool secret that I'm excited to write!

Anyway! Here is just a bit from the creche! 🖤

A bump to her back shakes her out of the rapid devouring of self-hatred spreading into every cell in her body, stumbling and almost collapsing onto the ground below. “Watch it,” Astarion hisses, pressing up more firmly against her once her knees steady. “What are you-” “Draw your blade, we’re being surrounded.” “What blade? I have a goddamn knife, in case you haven’t noticed,” “It’ll be close combat soon enough,” He bites back bitterly. With cruel acknowledgement, she realizes he’s right, and she holds her dagger defensively, the feel of Astarion mimicking her stance as they lean on each other for support sending waves of confidence and dizzying uncertainty sparking through her veins. The pair of them really aren’t suited to this kind of punishing rhythm- the dance they weave teetering in and out of their favor with each blow and evasion. Constantly shuffling feet, ducking, and bending lend a kind of bizarre grace to each cohesive attack. He stabs, she parries. He parries, she stabs. A month ago, she’d been shaking in her boots at the prospect of some stranger following her through a dimly lit alley or confronting her for money. Now? She’s slashing her dagger and catching a chunk of githyanki ear in the cheek, sputtering and spitting the metallic liquid from her mouth onto the ground below. “Here, you need something,” Ofelia tosses over her shoulder, knowing he’ll hear her over the loud grunts of a woman who constantly swings her spear- as if she’d be lucky enough to land a successful hit on their cunning rogue. Ofelia presses the hilt of her dagger between gritted teeth before deftly swinging her lute to the front. It takes her but a moment to recall the spell, and the blink of an eye to choose something appropriate. Whether by her estimations or the surrounding enemies, she isn’t sure. Quick digits splay over the neck of the instrument with a prowess stemming from years of habitual repetition. The tune she defaults to when lost in thought—its weeping melody and slapping of skin to wood—floods her brain with familiarity. Like an old friend, it caresses her ears with a comfort long and lost. Emboldened by the teal magic that sinks into his pale skin, Astarion makes short work of the soldier before him with only the loud tearing of sinew and tissue being ripped from bone to indicate her termination. Ofelia turns to him, blood covering his face to paint his gaunt features in a shadowy mockery of the one she knows best. Polluting her thoughts of him, he does nothing but stare. If she’d been of clearer mind she would have paid more attention to the Inquisitor out of his periphery, elbows thrust backward as he lines his blade up with Astarion’s abdomen. “No!” She juts her hip out to knock him off balance, lute lowered in a measly attempt to block the blow. Aged wood and rusting strings do not, a proper shield, make.

If you're wondering what Ofelia strummed, yes it's the guitar solo from Bulls in the Bronx 🤙🏻

No pressure tags for my lovelies! 💗 @pinkberrytea @khywren @caffeinatedmunchkin @bby-bel-art @nerdallwritey @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @elinorbard @badbloodwitch @justabiteofspite @bloodinwine @ladyduellist @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lanafofana @bardic-inspo @busy-baker @marlowethebard @alwaysmauria

[bluebobatea]

if sasuke was the main character then he probably would've been a LOT more sympathised with than he is now (which is to say rarely). like the narrative wouldn't even need to change to show his pains or 'his side of the story', bc it does that plenty. it's just that he is not the main character. and idk what it is about our human minds but we tend to sympathise with main characters automatically (unless ofc you go off the rockers insane and do something like obliterate almost everyone from the planet *cough* eren yeager *cough*)

an instance that comes to my mind where this does happen is with lelouch from code geass. while i don't agree with his character motivations, people generally do sympathise with him as he is the mc and as viewers we know he isn't inherently evil. sasuke's goal towards the end is slightly similar but ofc people love to hate him so they don't even try to understand where he is coming from.

my point is, most people while engaging with the naruto story don't read between the lines and so don't see how traumatised and in pain sasuke is and hence don't understand his character motivations. heck, they don't understand a single bit about him and so they automatically hate him, as he is supposedly going against the main character's goals.

which is really sad given all that he has been through.

[lexqa]

lfc fans are slowly losing their minds aren’t they

[lace-chocolate]

sometimes I wonder what it’s like to have a normal level of attachment to things…

[michdoodles]

Can’t believe Shakira invented the concept of having very few brain cells left… back in 1998

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

If you wanna suffer today or like to feel pain, I would recommend watching the press conference with Trump and Ze. It's as worse as you expect it to be.

[miercolaes]

last shitpost for a while but i was going through my folders on the computer and i found screenshots i took from club penguin and apparently when i get mad at someone i use their names for my puffles. idk why, my honest guess is bc i can act as an evil queen since i keep them indoors but that's still funny. all my archenemies had turned to nothing more than puffles in a silly game i once broke my parents' credit card as a kid. i think that's very iconic but please tell me i wasn't the only one doing it. this is normal, right? right?????

[asterdeer]

i will be having an actually pretty solid mental health day until approx. 9:45 am when the demon in my brain which carries the memory of the first 30 minutes of hereditary wakes up and goes "remember this on loop you ugly bitch" and it's all over from there

[papirouge]

I've already said several times how intersectionality was a scam and how ultimately Whitefem don't really like that about other demographics, but ngl.... I'm pretty impressed by how defensive & supportive they are with their faves.

Whitfem will NEVER shut up about Taylor Swift or Amber Heard. They will support them until their last breath and tbh big props to them for defending their own.

I wish Black women had the same fellowship. I am sick of seeing them pull out petition to release criminals out of jail (Tory Lanez) or shitting on other Black women to appeal to male (dunking in darkskin women or nappy hair again: it's a black woman who made a petition to "comb" Blue Ivy's hair when she was still a toddler.....)

Of course you'll never see "interesectional" White feminist care or speak up about those issues bc their intersectionality is a facade and they only care abt White women's struggle, but I wish they could at least be consistent and stop harassing ANY women not supportive enough of their White queens. No Ashley, I'm not going to keep tabs on whoever liked Johnny Deep post and be pissed at anyone who clowned Amber Heard....like you don't care abt men making racist or colorist comments about Black women..🙄 Cope and leave us alone. Your guilt trip will never work on us.

[gregmarriage]

“i’m too old to change.”

well, maybe if you weren’t a fucking coward

[unofficialadamtaurus]

man Nicole would absolutely fucking love the American culture around 4th of July fireworks

[pa-pa-plasma]

nooo, girl, don't reblog the video of a grown man spraying toxic paint directly next to a small child's face & then placing it around her neck for clout your vibes were so OSHA certified haha

This dad wins Halloween! 🎃💀